Klezmer: From the Shtetl to the Subway

by Maya Resnick

Half a millennium ago, folk, dance, and soul music were coalesced by Eastern European Jews. Dramatic, sweet, and narrative, this Frankenstein genre came to be known as Klezmer music. Since then, Yiddish artists have bumped out centuries of hits in various forms: theater, swing, folk, and the wordless melodies of Hasidic nigunim. Klezmer is unmistakably soulful and exuberant, both reminiscent of jazz and of Middle Eastern melodies. The clarinet characteristically leads the melody in a wailing glissando, sliding throatily between notes. Being a deeply instrumental genre, Klezmer usually incorporates a more delicate voice from the violin, or a lively accordion timbre. Notably, the genre inspires interaction from non-performers, both in the act of singing along as well as dancing to the frenzied tempo.

Klezmer’s role transcends sonic satisfaction: at its core generally lies a political, religious, or confessional statement. Songs cover celebratory topics, such as the quest to find one's beloved or the indivisible brotherhood of socialism. This instrument-heavy genre has taken inspiration from its geographical neighbors—Ottoman music and Slavic folk dances—well into its Americanization in the early 20th century. In the wake of the Holocaust, Ashkenazi Jews struggled to keep their culture alive, but the music persisted. Because Klezmer music was so integral in Jewish events, such as weddings and holiday celebrations, it was an inseparable aspect of European Jewish life, one that naturally transferred over as these communities immigrated to the United States. Second-generation American artists were masters of Klezmer, such as Max Epstein, Sid

Beckerman, and Ray Musiker, predecessors to the likes of Dave Tarras and Naftule Brandwein. Klezmer found its way not only into JewishAmerican homes, but also into theaters, dance halls, and radio broadcasts.

Though some may consider Yiddish a dying language, the art of Klezmer is thriving in its heartland, New York City. One organization has held itself responsible for passing the torch since 1909—“since before,” according to one of its organizers, “the New York subway system was running.” The Workers Circle (formerly the Workmen’s Circle) is a non-profit centered around Klezmer music, Yiddish language learning, and social justice activism, whose mission has been a lifeboat for Ashkenazi heritage. Much of the New York Klezmer scene is deeply politically progressive, and the Workers Circle reflects these values to a tee. What is it about a clarinet, a violin, and an accordion accompanying the deep bellowing voice of a bearded man that is particularly oriented toward social justice?

On February 6th, 2025, the Circle held a Yiddish singalong for Columbia students, during which a few dozen (mostly non-Yiddishspeaking) students sang along to transliterated lyrics about a man asking riddles to find a wise woman for his wife, a couple named Abraham and Rivky who couldn’t resist each other’s lips, and workers’ shared devotion to the working class ideal. We opened with the famous song “Tum Balalaika,” which, like many other Yiddish tunes, is a fast-paced waltz that inspires its listeners to (at the very least) tap their feet to the swift triple. Those leading the circle read the lyrics, and we replied in song from our foldable chairs and mismatched couches.

During that hour, we ascended into a no man’s land somewhere between Morningside Heights and the shtetls in the Pale of Settlement.

After the singalong, I spoke to Francesca Rubinson, the Senior Social Justice Organizer at the Worker’s Circle, who “grew up singing in Hebrew and English, but never in Yiddish.” Singing in Yiddish offers neutrality from the exilic implications of singing Jewish tunes in English, as well as space from the political and religious significance of singing in Hebrew. Most importantly, it allows Ashkenazi Jews to feel pride in a collective identity that transcends the shared trauma of the Holocaust. Bringing back Klezmer music as a linchpin of Ashkenazi society offers Jews a chance to be united not in prayer or politics or even grief, but in the memory of song. And for those who were participating without Ashkenazi or Jewish backgrounds, it offered a window into the past and a reason to dance.

Metropolitan Klezmer in the Leonard Nimoy Thalia Theater at Symphony Space. Klezmer made Jewish culture accessible, fun, and socially productive for Seders Hoffman, as well as for many of its loving listeners. As she reminded me, venerated Jewish folk singer and actor Theodore Bikel once said: “I sing Jewish songs not because they’re better than the songs of my neighbor. I sing them because they’re mine. And unless I sing them, that part of the culture will vanish and that wonderful meadow of proliferating flowers, with a profusion of flowers, will have the Jewish flower missing.”

Dylan Seders Hoffman. Image via dylanseders.com.

Yiddish singer Dylan Seders Hoffman is proud of how accessible Klezmer has become to all those interested in hearing the soulful, lively, often comical tunes. “There are regular Klezmer concerts held all over the city, many at Barbès in Brooklyn and at the Hudson Yards Synagogue through the New York Klezmer Series. There’s also an annual festival every December called Yiddish New York,” she explained. Notably, this month there is both a “Yiddish Tangos and Klezmer Mambos” event at Carnegie Hall and a performance by

Nothing inherent in Klezmer music is unique. If anything, it’s uniquely a medley of Eastern European folk, Ottoman dance music, and Balkan clarinet styling, for instance. However, it tells a story of resilience, endurance, and inheritance. “These songs are mine, they’re yours, they are our yerushe, our inheritance,” said Seders Hoffman. “As a Jewish artist, I believe I have a particular responsibility to use my art to help continue to breathe new life into this rich part of our culture and pass it down to the next generation.”

Maya Resnick is an editor for On Air Guide studying Middle Eastern Studies and Psychology. She is in the process of becoming licensed to program, so keep your ears peeled for her shows!